


Courier

by Indigo_warlock



Series: Falling and Rising [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: 5+1 Things, Adoption, Adventure, Character Study, Darkwater Crossing (Elder Scrolls), Dragonsreach (Elder Scrolls), F/M, Friendship, High Hrothgar, Male Friendship, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29927052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indigo_warlock/pseuds/Indigo_warlock
Summary: 5 times letters were delivered to the dragonborn, and one time the dragonborn wanted a letter delivered.
Relationships: Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Ysolda, Male Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Ysolda
Series: Falling and Rising [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2205645
Kudos: 3





	Courier

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because the magical couriers of Skyrim really don't get enough appreciation for their hard work. This work may contain spoilers for the Mehrunes Dagon quest. This story takes place after "His Eyes of Seas and Sapphires" but before "One Year Without You," but you don't have to read those to understand this one.

Windhelm

The courier accepted the note as always. It was his job to deliver it safely to its rightful owner, and so he would do his best. The woman had instructed him to deliver it to a muscular man with reddish brown hair and blue eyes. Without a name, the courier found the man difficult to track. He gathered information from local tavern gossip: the man was an adventurer, a stranger of unknown origin that seemed to herald the winds of change. Where he went, dragons followed, and so the people feared to see him cross their path. The courier traveled to every major city, seeking answers and finding only more questions. He heaved a sigh on one dreary morning, sulking as he walked out of Windhelm. If he could not track down this man, his reputation would suffer, and he would lose his status as the most determined courier in all of Skyrim! He couldn't allow that to happen. But he did feel rather weary…

"You look tired, friend." A deep and unfamiliar voice commented. "What troubles you?"

The courier didn't bother looking up, his neck stiff from months of sleeping on the side of the road. "This is the most frustrating delivery I've ever had to make!" He grumbled. "I was told to give this letter to a man who turns out to be the most elusive person in Tamriel!" 

"The most elusive person in Tamriel." The voice chuckled. "I do travel quite often. I am sorry for any difficulties you may have encountered in your search for me."

The courier's eyes snapped upward. Seeing the features of the man before him, he laughed in delight. "You...it's you! You're the one expecting this letter!"

He nodded. "I was wondering if it was lost. When I saw you, I thought I would ask about its location. You seem the capable sort."

"Me? Capable?" The courier snorted. "Hardly! It took me weeks of searching and yet you were the one who found me first!"

"You can't blame yourself for that." He smirked. "I am, after all, the most elusive person in Tamriel."

"Um." The courier shoved the note into his hands, as well as an amount of gold. "It's for your hands only. I didn't read it."

The man opened the letter and skimmed its contents with a smile, then pocketed the money. "Thank you." He turned, preparing to leave.

"Wait!" The courier exclaimed.

The man turned to face him again. "Yes?" 

"I...I know I'm not supposed to ask. But, since I went to so much trouble, and I'm very curious- might I ask- um...what were the contents of the letter?" He stammered, a little embarrassed.

"It's alright." The man looked down at the letter again. "It's a thank you note from Alessandra, a woman I met on my travels. I performed a few services for her, and while I insisted that no payment was necessary, she wanted to reward me properly. I'm glad she wrote to me...I've missed her greatly." He explained, the wistful smile never leaving his face.

"Oh. I see." The courier didn't know what he had been expecting, but that wasn't it. A thank you note? It was so...normal.

"Have I disappointed you?"

"Ah! No, not at all! I just-"

"You've heard the rumors." The man sighed. His easygoing demeanor shifted in and instant. A dark shadow crossed his features, and he curled his fist, crinkling the paper in his hand. "Yes, I should have expected that. They're all exaggerations, of course, but they are based in truth." His gaze clouded over. "I am the dragonborn, and I shoulder burdens I never wished to carry. Be grateful you're just a courier, my friend, instead of a so-called hero carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders." 

The dragonborn was quicker than the courier had previously thought. The courier blinked once, and he was gone.

Mzulft

The dragonborn was much easier to track the second time. His fame was growing, and more and more people began to take notice of the strange wanderer in dragonbone armor. Villagers easily pointed him in the right direction. He followed their instructions until he arrived at the gates of an old Dwemer ruin. Having run for many miles, he nearly keeled over from exhaustion on the doorstep.

The door creaked open. "Why do we always meet when you're on the brink of collapse?" The dragonborn staggered out of the ruin, a number of golden metal trinkets in his arms. He set them down and huffed a sigh of relief. "My, these are obnoxiously heavy. I hope they're worth the trouble."

"I...have a delivery for you. Your hands only." The courier wheezed, still catching his breath. "It's...about a museum. A new one, opening in Dawnstar." He pulled the letter from his bag. 

"A museum. Interesting." The dragonborn took the letter and unfolded it slowly. "To come all the way to Mzulft...you are certainly determined, my friend." 

"Why do you do that?" The courier frowned, confused.

"What?"

"Why do you call me friend? This is only our second time meeting!" 

He did not wait a moment before answering. "I was never very close to anyone in my childhood. To me, a friend was anyone with a kind face, regardless of how much or little we spoke. I have learned to see people's hearts through their eyes, and your eyes have shown me much. You are a good person, friend."

"Um. Thanks, but I'm just a messenger!" The courier spluttered, awestruck. The dragonborn thought he was a good person. The dragonborn! 

"And you are a fine one at that. To travel the roads in times like these, to go far and wide to help those you barely know...you are a brave person. A good one." The dragonborn pocketed the paper and began picking up the various bits of metal he'd dropped on the ground. "Forgive me, but I'd best be going. The moons will rise soon, and I'd like to leave while some daylight remains."

"Oh! I understand. I should go too. Letters to deliver. But, if it's alright, could I ask you something else?"

"Of course." The dragonborn grunted as he stumbled forward, the massive heap of items in his arms throwing his gait off balance. 

The courier stifled a laugh. "I was wondering…why did you snap at me when we last met? What was it that upset you?"

The dragonborn paused. "I am not the courageous warrior of legend which people think I am. The citizens of Skyrim rely on me. They ask me for aid, and I do what I can to provide it. But I am no hero. I am a man as flawed as any other, and sometimes there are lives even I cannot save. I am not clean, and I will not allow myself to be treated better than I deserve." He spoke, then continued on his way, shifting the pile in his arms. "Safe travels, friend."

High Hrothgar

Gray clouds gathered overhead. A snowfall would begin soon. The courier trudged up the mountainside, feet throbbing. He gritted his teeth and continued forward by sheer force of will. The dragonborn had climbed these steps, so he must climb them as well. He had a delivery to make.

After another hour of walking, he tripped and fell and did not get up. He was nearing his destination but couldn't force his feet to carry him any further. Instead, he rolled over and looked up at the cloud-covered sky. Snow fell lightly around him, and he opened his mouth, tasting the fresh flakes on his tongue.

"Imagine my surprise when I looked down from the peak of High Hrothgar to see you hobbling up the steps after me." A familiar voice spoke. "I admire your dedication to your job, but truly, you work yourself too hard."

"Dragonborn." The courier mumbled through his frozen lips, making no effort to get up. "Pardon me. I'm just...taking a short rest."

"You certainly need it, my friend, but at least allow me to help you out of the snow." The dragonborn lifted him effortlessly and began climbing the short distance left of the steps to High Hrothgar.

"Wha- hey!" He protested weakly, his numb limbs dangling from the man's strong arms. "Put me down! I'm fine!"

"You've traveled a long way and you are exhausted. You need a warm bed and cold mead." The dragonborn ascended the remaining steps smoothly. He set the courier down just outside of the door, then held it open. "Come in."

The courier followed the dragonborn through the halls of ancient stone, passing cloaked figures on the way. "These are the Greybeards you study with?"

"Yes. They have taught me much." The dragonborn led the courier to a closed off area with a bed and some sparse furniture. He sat down on one of them and grabbed a bottle of mead from the bedside table. "This is where I've been staying. Sit down and rest. I'll pour you a tankard."

The courier all but collapsed on the bed next to him. "Thanks. But...why are you being so nice? I'm just a messenger."

"Ah, but you are a kind one." He took a drink, then poured some out for his friend. "And I'm just a man starved for company. I admire the Greybeards, but they're not much for conversation." 

"Oh! I...I almost forgot. Your letter." The courier handed it to him, as well as some gold. His heart sank as he remembered the brief glimpse he'd taken of his contents. "It's...a letter of inheritance. You were left three hundred septims. I'm sorry for your loss." He took a long swig of his drink.

The dragonborn's face fell. He accepted the letter and opened it with trembling hands. He read the letter and then set it on the bedside table. "Thank you for bringing this to me. Silus was a good friend to me. I wish I could have saved him."

"I'm sorry." The courier repeated. He didn't know what else to say.

"He owned the museum in Dawnstar, the one you told me about. I helped him recover some artifacts, and we grew closer." The dragonborn finished his drink and sighed. "But then Mehrunes Dagon made a request of me, and when I refused, Silus paid the price." 

"Mehrunes Dagon? The Daedric Prince?" The courier shuddered. "You can't blame yourself. No one crosses the Daedra and lives to tell the tale."

"That...is what I want to believe, yes. But I am the dragonborn. What kind of person am I if I cannot save the people I care for?" He lamented. "Ah...I'm sorry, my friend. I should know better than to burden you with my troubles."

"No! It's alright, really. Whatever you need...friend."

The two spent the rest of the night drinking and exchanging stories until the courier gave in to his exhaustion. When he awoke, he said his goodbyes to the dragonborn and made his way back down the mountain. _He's a strange man, the dragonborn,_ he thought, _but a good one._

Solitude

The sun lit up the morning sky above the city as the courier walked through the gates. He had completed all but one of today's deliveries, and he looked forward to finishing his work. Maybe he could take a few hours to himself today...but first, he had one last letter to deliver. He followed the directions he'd been given to Proudspire Manor. He was relieved that the dragonborn had found himself a permanent home; as much as he enjoyed traveling, trailing the dragonborn wasn't easy, even for him. The tracking had gotten easier with time, but the mental strain had taken its toll. Many times he'd seen the carnage the dragonborn left in his wake, and it made him nervous. _No one should have that much power._ But the dragonborn had treated him kindly, and so the courier did not speak a word about the mutilated corpses or the piles of ashes he'd noticed on his journey.

He approached the door to the manor and knocked. "Delivery for the dragonborn!"

A few seconds later, the door opened, and a familiar face greeted him. "Come inside, friend."

The courier tried not to gawk at the elaborate furnishings and decorations as the man led him into the living room. "You live here? This place is amazing!"

"Amazing, and quite expensive." He laughed. "But I don't regret my decision to buy it. It's nice to have a warm bed to come home to."

"It really is incredible." The courier repeated, awestruck. "But...um...isn't this all a bit much for one person?"

"He doesn't live here alone, you know." A pretty woman stepped into the room with a teasing smile. "What, he didn't tell you about me?"

The dragonborn's eyes lit up at the sight of her. "Ah, Ysolda. How was your trip to the market?"

"Just wonderful, my love! I've bought us enough food to last the rest of the week!" The woman, Ysolda, smiled and sat down across from him. 

"You two are together?"

"We were married recently." The dragonborn beamed and took his wife's hand in his own. "But forgive me for keeping you. I assume you came here for business rather than small talk."

"Congratulations on your marriage." The courier smiled. "But you're right. I should give you your letter." He handed over the piece of paper. "Honorhall Orphanage is now under new management. This pamphlet should explain everything."

"Hm." He showed the letter to his wife and they read it together. "What do you think? Those children do need a home…"

"I'm not sure." Ysolda frowned. "I'm still learning how to be a good wife. I don't know a thing about being a good mother."

"You would do wonderfully, my love. You are the kindest woman I've ever known." He kissed her sweetly.

The courier cleared his throat awkwardly. "Um...I can leave if you want me to. I don't want to intrude…"

"Nonsense. Friends are always welcome here." The dragonborn smiled brightly.

"But don't let my husband keep you if you're busy." Ysolda added. "I'm sure your work is very important."

"Actually, this was my last delivery for the day." He explained. "It's just...it seems like this discussion of yours is a personal one."

"Then we will finish the discussion later. It's been too long since we've had a guest! I'll bring over some sweet rolls and you can tell us about your travels!" Ysolda jumped up and walked briskly out of the room, presumably to the kitchen.

Her husband chuckled. "She certainly is an excitable one. It's one of the many reasons why I fell in love with her."

"I never really expected the dragonborn to be the type to settle down." The courier commented.

"I'm not." The dragonborn replied. "Far from it, in fact. But perhaps I could be, if I fulfill my destiny and live to tell the tale. Either way, I love Ysolda, and I will cherish our time together, however long it lasts." 

"You will succeed, and you will survive. I'm sure of it!"

The dragonborn did not respond, and that silence spoke volumes.

Soon after, Ysolda returned with the sweet rolls, and the three spent the afternoon chatting and enjoying each other's company. But something bothered the courier, something he didn't dare speak aloud: the dragonborn, the prophesied savior of Skyrim, did not expect to survive.

Darkwater Crossing

The courier strolled down the road, whistling "Ragnar the Red" as he went. He'd had the luck of coming across Talsgar the Wanderer, a traveling bard, and the tune stuck in his head ever since. Not that he minded; it had always been one of his favorite songs, and it brought a smile to his face whenever he heard it performed. His smile grew wider still as he approached the bridge to Darkwater Crossing. He caught sight of a figure on the edge of the bridge, standing still and watching the water rushing beneath him.

"You'd best get back from there!" He called out. "You could slip and fall!"

The figure didn't move. "I've faced worse dangers than water, my friend!"

The courier was too far away to see the figure clearly, but he recognized the voice. "Dragonborn!" He ran to close the distance between them and skidded to a halt a few feet away. "I've been looking all over for you! But what in Oblivion are you doing here? I was told you'd be in Riften."

"Plans change, friend, as do the people who make them." With a sigh, he stepped back from the edge and faced the courier properly. "I was heading to Riften but received word that a man named Derkeethus had gone missing, and I decided to investigate. He was last seen around these waters."

"Well, I don't mean to get in your way, but I've got a delivery for you. Let's see here...it's a letter from your wife. Here." He handed over the letter. "I was wondering, did you two ever get around to adopting any children?"

"Just one, an orphan girl from Windhelm. Her name is Sofie. My wife and I intend to pay a visit to Honorhall Orphanage soon to bring home another. We agreed that two children would be best." He read the letter, a smile spreading across his face. "She misses me, it seems. I wish we had more time together."

"I know what you mean." The courier nodded. "I've been so busy working that I haven't had time to start looking for love. I do want to find someone, though."

"Ha! Don't tell my wife. She'll likely try to set you up with someone, and while she has many talents, matchmaking is not one of them." Amusement twinkled in his eyes.

"Don't worry, I won't tell." The courier shuddered. He'd heard plenty of horror stories about mismatched couples and was very keen to avoid ending up as part of one. "How do you balance your adventures with your life at home? It doesn't seem easy."

"Oh, I assure you it isn't. But I've spoken to Ysolda many times. She understands better than anyone the burdens I carry." He glanced back at the river and frowned. "Such as finding a stray Argonian who appears to have vanished off of Tamriel."

"I'll let you know if I hear anything!" The courier promised. "I've heard lots of crazy information recently. Rumor has it that the Stormcloaks have recruited a powerful warrior into their ranks. Imagine that!"

The dragonborn smirked. "I can imagine that quite well…and thank you for the offer, friend. Any information could prove useful in times like these."

"Wait a minute." The courier studied the man's expression. "That warrior...was it you?"

"Hm. A powerful warrior..." He flashed a teasing grin. "What do you think?"

"Well...if you're a Stormcloak...why do you live in the Imperial city of Solitude?" The courier asked.

"To be honest, I respect Stormcloaks and Imperials alike." The man confessed. "I only chose a side because the war must be ended quickly. It benefits no one but Skyrim's enemies."

"But why side with Ulfric?"

"I sided with Ulfric because of his passion. While he is far from perfect, he has more experience with leadership than Elisif, and his strength and devotion to Skyrim's people make him a suitable candidate for High King. Although his misuse of the Thu'um does worry me, and I understand Elisif's point of view..." He sighed. "I often question my decision."

"I try to stay away from the war. It's brought me nothing but trouble." The courier grumbled. "There's already the dangers of trolls and bandits, but now I've got to worry about Stormcloak and Imperial ambushes!"

"It's not all bad, friend. An Imperial ambush set me on the path to my destiny, and it could very well do the same for you." The dragonborn patted his shoulder. "Forgive me. I should be going to search the falls. Derkeethus isn't about to rescue himself."

"Oh. Well, goodbye, and good luck!" The courier called after the dragonborn as he walked away. _A Stormcloak with Imperial sympathies. That dragonborn really is one of a kind!_

Dragonsreach

The courier had delivered many missives to Jarl Balgruuf in the past, and on any other occasion he would find Dragonsreach familiar and comforting. But this was no ordinary occasion, and he would not be delivering anything to the Jarl today. Many of the citizens glanced at him curiously and whispered amongst themselves. Even the guards seemed nervous, and from what he'd heard the courier couldn't blame them. Summoning and attempting to trap a dragon would seem suicidal to anyone who had not met the dragonborn, anyone who had not seen the fire in his eyes. He hurried past the Jarl and the court wizard and the guards until he reached the balcony. 

"Breathtaking, isn't it?" The dragonborn stood facing the view, his hands clasped behind his back. In them was a single piece of paper. "Leave us."

The onlookers dispersed at his request. The courier hesitantly approached the dragonborn and stood at his side. The two stood alone, looking out towards the mountain range. The wind added to the biting chill in the air, and the courier stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep them warm.

"I suppose you must be wondering why I called for you."

The courier said nothing in response. There was something different about the dragonborn. His somber disposition, previously replaced by one of humor and love and joy, had returned to the surface. His once bright eyes had gone dark and hollow, his expression haunted by the grim shadow of doubt.

"Today, I will call the dragon known as Odahviing. I will trap him here, in Dragonsreach, and I will convince him to take me to Skuldafn by whatever means are necessary. Today, I face my destiny...but I cannot face her." He passed the paper in his hands to the courier. "And that is where you come in, my friend."

The courier accepted the paper with shaking hands. "What is this?" _You already know,_ a voice in his head told him. _You know. You just don't want to believe it._

"Take it to my wife back in Solitude. It contains the words which I do not have the time or courage to speak aloud to her." He closed his eyes for a moment. "If I fall today...these will be my final words."

"No." He nearly dropped the paper as his hands trembled. "No. You will survive. You will defeat Alduin, and you will come home to her! I will not deliver this!"

"I believe that I will defeat Alduin. It is my destiny to do so." He smiled wryly. "But I am no god, my friend. And…"

"And?" 

"I have already fallen once." He admitted quietly. "I still breathe because Akatosh wills it, because he knows that I have yet to fulfill my destiny. And when it is done…"

"You think Akatosh will take you." The courier finished.

"Yes. But do not fear for me. If Akatosh wills it, I will return." He breathed in and out deeply, taking in the crisp air of the early morning. "Please. Take it to her. Look after her and my daughter. I will do all I can, but…"

"I will." The courier swallowed. "I promise." He tried to hold back the tears, but they stung his cheeks anyway. He'd only met this man five times, six now, and he hadn't dared to admit it to himself until now, but the dragonborn was his best friend. A wayward traveler dedicated to his job, the courier had never settled down, never found love, never started a family or even made many friends. But the dragonborn, a complete stranger, had helped him, had cared for him, had opened up to him in a way no one else ever had. He had finally found someone who understood, and now, that man could very well be living in his final hour. And so the tears fell, and they didn't stop.

"Do not weep for me, my friend." He pulled the courier into a warm hug.

"But- you could die!" The courier hiccuped between ragged breaths. "You...you could-"

"I do not fear death. I did, at first, but I have faced it many times now. My first death was painful, very much so, until I slipped into its darkness. But afterward, before my resurrection…" A peaceful smile crossed his lips. "For a brief time, I stood in Sovngarde. And should I vanquish the World-Eater, that place will once again welcome me home."

When the courier had gathered himself, he stepped back, out of the dragonborn's embrace. "I'll deliver your letter. And I'll take care of your wife and daughter, if-" He didn't dare finish the sentence. "Divines watch over you." 

"And you as well." 

The courier took one last look at his friend before leaving with the letter in hand.

The dragonborn paced across the balcony to stand on its edge, his form silhouetted against the rising sun. "Thank you, my friend." He whispered. The courier was a good man, and he knew that he would keep his word. The dragonborn closed his eyes briefly and imagined his daughter's laugh, his wife's smile, and the scent of the freshly baked sweet rolls they made just for him.

He opened his eyes. 

**"ODAHVIING!"**

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you wondering, the line "I have already fallen once" is a reference to my first work featuring this dragonborn, "His Eyes of Seas and Sapphires." Thanks for reading!


End file.
